


Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

by AllisonAckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonAckles/pseuds/AllisonAckles
Summary: Short one-shot. Dean lost reader on a hunt. These are this thoughts and how he copes when he is alone.





	Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

I've lost everyone at least once...My mom, dad, brother, Jo, Ellen, Bobby...and the list continues, friends, family, one by one they all end up dead and I always feel responsible. Sam, always finds his way back some how. But her...I thought I'd never lose her. I promised her I would always protect her, from anyone and everything. Even now months down the road, I feel her absence everywhere and in everything. The books I read, television shows I watch, the bed I sleep in, hell, even in the coffee I drink. I can't escape it. Part of me doesn't want to, I feel like it would be an insult to her memory, I don't want her to think I've forgotten about her. She was everything I could ever want, she was my soulmate.

At the end of everyday I found myself in the same spot in our bedroom floor. A bottle of whiskey setting between me and her bed side table and in my lap a couple of boxes we kept in our closet. They were filled with our best memories. Us as kids. Me, her and Sammy on the road. Dad wasn't one for pictures, but she loved them, took them constantly.

"Visuals, they keep the memories alive" she would always say and God I'm thankful she took so many. She looked beautiful in every photo she was in. Us in high school, the summers, stuck in boring motel rooms, driving for hours on end and in the impala about to tear each other apart from being in close quarters with each other for so long. She captured it all. Then...there was our wedding pictures. The perfectly white dress and her flawless complexion, brings a smile to my face every time I see the picture. In the boxes were not only pictures, her wedding ring, which had belonged to my mother, one of the few things that survived the fire surprisingly. Old photo booth pictures from when we were teenagers at some cheap-ass carnival I took her to, tacky notes we left each other. Her parents wedding rings, which she strung on a thin silver chain. Her parents died when she was 6 ,vampires, dad saved her and she's been apart of our family ever since.

Every night I drank a good portion of that whiskey that sat at my side and every night I would hate the world and cry, because she was gone. Then I would place everything neatly back in the boxes just like she left it and I would place them back on to the shelf in our closet. With the boxes back in the closet, I would stand there and say quietly, "I miss you...so much." Then after drinking a little more whiskey I would finally lay my head on her pillow. The picture frame that sat on her night stand was a small collage which held four pictures.

One: When we were no older than 17 kissing in that damn photo booth...

Two: Me, her, Sammy, and dad all in front of the impala before a hunt...

Three: Her and Jo when they were 21, drinking together of course...

Four: Her and I on our wedding day. I reached up not taking my eyes off our wedding picture and pulled on the light chain and then I let the darkness consume me....


End file.
